Bellamy's eyes are on the monitors again, the scenes replaying exactly as he remembers them. Abigail on the table. Jasper working his cuffs to get free. Octavia and Maya on the floor.

He nods at Clarke's suggestion, looking back at her with the weight of knowing she'd screamed and cried for him as he died. That he caused that sort of pain. Bellamy intends on never doing that again, if he can.

"Cut the lights, Monty. We need to stop Emerson now."

Maybe it won't stop him entirely, but it'll buy them a little bit of time.